‘Go not, brother.’
‘Bah! I will.’
‘Well, go, and God be with thee. Take thee my sword.’
He went to his mother. His mother was singing and dancing with the dragon. He went in to the dragon. ‘Good day to you both.’ [[34]]
‘Thanks.’
‘Come, what shall I do to you, dragon?’
‘Cut me in little pieces, and put me in the saddle-bags, and place me on my horse. Whence he carried me living, let him carry me also dead.’
He cut him in little pieces, put him in the saddle-bags, placed him on his horse, and dug out the horse’s eyes. ‘Go whither thou wilt.’
Away went the horse, and kept knocking his head against the trees; and the pieces of flesh kept falling from the saddle-bags. The crows kept eating the flesh.
Silvester shot a hare, and skinned it, and spitted it, and roasted it at the fire. And he said to his mother, ‘Mother, look straight at me.’